


Confirmation Bias

by truet



Category: Marvel Cinematic Universe
Genre: Awesome T'Challa (Marvel), Bisexual Tony Stark, But he's present, Civil War Team Iron Man, Don't Like Don't Read, Gen, Not Steve Friendly, Tony's not in this story, Unreliable Narrator
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-07-18
Updated: 2018-07-18
Packaged: 2019-06-12 06:37:44
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,537
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/15334005
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/truet/pseuds/truet
Summary: Steve learns what it means to be an ex-patriot (and expatriate).





	Confirmation Bias

**Author's Note:**

> Heed the tags. This story is not Steve-friendly. I think he's a schmuck. If he really stood for his beliefs, he wouldn't have caused maximum physical and property damage to scores of people and then run away. He would have come back and paid the piper.
> 
> Any dissenting comments will be deleted with extreme prejudice. I'm not here for any apologia on Steve's behalf.
> 
> UGH I hate html, apologies for me trying to add a rainbow for Tony and it deleting most of the story.

The team settled in nicely in Wakanda. T'Challa was a gracious, if somewhat reluctant, host. The Dora Milaje allowed them to use their training facilities for sparring, and the equipment was amazingly high-tech, the punching bags unbreakable, and the simulations on the edge of unbeatable. The team wanted for nothing in terms of rich foods, fine clothing, and soft beds. Princess Shuri, the lead scientist on Bucky's case, assured Steve they were making progress and would soon be able to wake him for treatment.

One sore point was King T'Challa refused to let them leave the palace grounds or go on any missions. Falcon's wings and Ant Man's suit had both been confiscated on arrival, and the quinjet had been moved into a secure hangar. But life here in Wakanda was lovely and peaceful. That is, if Steve discounted the near-constant heat. Perhaps Steve was being unfair; Okoye assured him that it rained a few days in April.

"A few days?" Steve said in disbelief, and she smiled with too many teeth, obviously amused at his discomfort.

Steve took to wearing the loose-fitting pants provided by his host along with a white t-shirt. At night, he slept under a mosquito-net; not that he didn't heal immediately from mosquito bites, but the whining kept him awake.

It amazed him that even in the world's most advanced nation, those pesky mosquitos still found a way in.

The heat was such today that Steve had to forgo his daily run around the palace grounds, and instead he lounged in his room in the chill of the air conditioner while he browsed the world-wide web in search of something, anything to distract him from his utter boredom. It was pure happenstance that his eye caught Tony's name "trending" on Twitter.

"U know I ♥ NY but surf's up so it's time 4 me to go chill down in Malibu kids. #IronMan is #BI+coastal."

Steve wasn't sure what to make of Tony's note. He glossed over it in favor of closing his eyes and imagining sitting on the beach, although Coney Island was more his speed. He let the cool salt air brush back his hair; or, he tried to, but the chill of the air conditioner was distracting. It dried out his sinuses and made his eyes itch. Going outside into the heat was out, though. Even though New York summers got even more hot and humid, for some reason he found them more bearable. Maybe it was the prospect of no Autumn or Winter to look forward to.

With a sigh, he went back to reading the web. The news everywhere made him want to pick up his shield and go out there to help. Except his shield was gone. Tony took it.

No, that wasn't fair. Steve had dropped it, left it behind. "You don't deserve it! My father made that shield." Tony's voice, his grief, his hurt, still weighed down Steve's heart like blackout blanket.

There was nothing to do about his guilt with Tony so far away. Unless.... Steve could write him a letter. A letter could be mailed and remain untraceable back to Wakanda, with the King's help.

Newly energized, Steve set out to find King T'Challa.

.....

The wait was excruciating. T'Challa told him it would be at least three weeks before the letter could safely wend its way into Tony's hands. Steve spent those three weeks scanning through the electronic bulletin boards for any kind of news about the Avengers in general, hoping to hear some word.

But all he found when he searched for "Avengers" and his own name were a bunch of accusations from fans of the Avengers about the battle in Schkeuditz at the airport, the damage done by Steve and Bucky in Bucharest, or the loss of life in Lagos.

One site listed the physical damages and loss in income to the law enforcement officers in Bucharest. The property damage to the tunnel. The two people killed in the tunnel, and an accounting of the hospital bills, and all the vehicles that were destroyed or damaged.

The sum total was in the hundred millions.

Steve's mouth went dry as he read the number of zeros. And then he scrolled past pictures of faces of people, all the many people whose lives were now irredeemably damaged by his fight to save Bucky's life. People who couldn't afford to pay their hospital bills, or get themselves to work, or pick up their children from school; people who lost their jobs after the incident because their employers wouldn't wait for them to heal or to complete physical therapy.

Tears filled Steve's eyes. He rubbed them fiercely from his face and rose to his feet, traveling a path that had become familiar with repetition, so much so he could find it even with tears blurring his sight.

There wasn't much to see beyond the clear pane of Bucky's cryotube, anyway. His youthful face was unchanging, untouched by the years or by the torment Steve knew HYDRA had put him through. He was still Bucky, still Steve's Bucky. That was all that mattered. Steve pressed his fingers against the glass and let the cold fill the hollow inside him.

.....

Sam came to him in a funk, a clear tablet held in one hand. On it, images of War Machine and Iron Man swooped in flight, with the text below reading, "Iron Patriot returns to action! Declared fit for duty."

"Rhodes has recovered?" Steve asked.

Sam nodded, waving the screen. "It's all over the Air Force website. Some cutting edge neurological therapy developed by Stark and Dr. Strange. Rhodey is flying again." Sam's voice broke. "Man, it's fantastic. I'm so happy for him, you know? But at the same time..." Sam shrugged. "I just miss flying so damn much. I miss the sky."

Steve reached out to touch Sam's shoulder, but he'd already turned away.

.....

One time might be sheer chance, twice coincidence, but by the third time, Steve knew for sure what Tony was up to, and it burned.

It happened when he was watching the news, again fighting boredom and that strange melancholia that had overtaken him. He was tempted to crawl into that soft bed of his and never get out again.

Instead, he turned on the display that tuned into television feeds from all over the globe. After a few clicks of the button, he started receiving news from the States.

"Is that the news?" Clint said, joining him on the couch. Clint carried a large bowl of the sticky jackfruit he'd acquired a taste for. Steve found it much too sweet.

"Yeah. I thought I'd see what's happening back home."

Clint flashed him an unreadable look. Perhaps Steve did spend a little too much time watching the U.S. news, but it was that or back to more physical training. There was nothing else to do in their assigned areas but read or play games or cards, and neither held any appeal for Steve right now.

"Steve..."

"Hush," Steve said, because the text at the bottom of the screen said, "Tony Stark to unveil new charitable foundation for extraordinary youth," and there Tony stood in front of the press. He was wearing some sort of jumpsuit uniform instead of his usual businessman's suit, and his body seemed healthy and fit. He must be wearing makeup to hide the bruises from their battle, because Steve could see no sign of them. Steve hit the volume button just as Tony started to speak.

"I've created Foundation X in collaboration with Professor Charles Xavier, funded with the financial assistance of private sources and the Maria Stark Charitable Trust. Many of these kids, born and raised in the U.S.A., have now been kicked out onto the streets by parents who don't understand them, who fear them. What Professor Xavier and I want to accomplish is establish a series of homes across the country to support and educate the growing number of kids who have unexpected abilities."

"Boy, he's just got money to burn, doesn't he?" Clint said.

Flashes of light struck Tony from the cameras of the surrounding photographers, an almost blinding amount of light, and for the first time, Steve appreciated why Tony wore dark sunglasses much of the time.

The newscaster's voice interjected, saying, "Stark had an unusual treat in store for the press."

The reporters parted to allow a woman in a chef's hat with a cart to approach the podium.

"Just in time. Thanks, Julia," Tony said, and watched her prepare him a hot dog with all the trimmings. "Don't be fooled by her hat. These are good ol' American hot dogs. One hundred percent bad for you and the very tastiest. Please, enjoy one, on me, and in honor of these all-American kids." Tony took a big bite of his hot dog and smiled at the cameras as he chewed.

"Oh, God. Hot dogs," Clint murmured next to Steve. Steve's mouth watered.

The scene cut away to the newscasters. "That was Tony Stark of the Maria Stark Charitable Trust announcing his new Foundation X for children with extraordinary abilities," a blond man said.

His co-anchor put in, "And announcing it in style, because, man, those hot dogs looked good."

"Didn't they? What do you say we get some for lunch?"

Steve shut off the display, his suspicions on high.

"Hey," Clint said. "At least put on a movie or something." His face was messy with jackfruit.

"Sure." Steve turned the display back on before stomping back to his room and flipping on his computer screen.

He started with Tony's "@OfficiallyStark" Twitter account. Sure enough, it was as Steve suspected: photos of Stark gadding about and trying to rub it in their noses. Here he was, palling around town with The Vision at the Statue of Liberty; for heaven's sake, could Tony be more obvious? Steve's blood pressure rose to the boiling point when he saw the two of them in front of the Wonder Wheel at Coney Island. Stark held a bright pink cloud of cotton candy. The Vision was holding a teddy bear. What a travesty. Steve's heart gave a mournful throb at the sight of that majestic Ferris wheel rising above the amusement park. How many times had he and Bucky spent the day there getting sick on popcorn and candy apples? Of course, only until the war started and sugar began being rationed. Steve wiped away a tear and paged down to view photos of Tony showing Vision the Grand Canyon, flying with Rhodes, and sparring with Spider-Man and two other fellows in bright uniforms, and then the four of them eating a giant platter of cheeseburgers while Vision looked on. "Power Man and the Iron Fist join the Avengers Chow Hounds," Tony's caption read.

Steve had enough. He clenched his hand tightly on the tablet screen and strode out of their quarters to make his way down the long hallway and through the three security checkpoints to the royal suite. He was the only Avenger allowed in this wing, and he was familiar with one of the Dora Milaje on duty at the door; her name was Ayo and he'd sparred with her a few times.

Steve smiled bashfully and said, "Good evening, Ayo. Do you know if his Highness has a moment to speak with me?"

She gave him an unimpressed look but nodded at her compatriot and then tapped three times on the door before sliding inside and closing it behind her.

Steve waited as patiently as he could, taking calming breaths so he wouldn't go tearing in on a temper. Stark's behavior wasn't King T'Challa's fault, after all.

In a few minutes, Ayo returned and said, "King T'Challa will see you in one hour." Her phrasing was staccato and her nod brief and perfunctory. Steve consulted his watch, noted the time, and returned to his room to continue gathering data. Stark at a press briefing eating another hamburger, although he looked younger in that photo, so perhaps it was an older picture. But here: Tony riding a roller coaster, Vision sitting next to him looking as amazed as the synthezoid ever got. A short movie of Tony serving cake and ice cream to a bunch of children at Stark Industries for something termed, "Bring A Girl to STEM Day." The children were all wearing ridiculous blinking hats, and DUM-E began shooting a can of whipping cream at Tony, to the delighted screams of the girls.

Whipped cream and cake. In the next picture, Iron Man eating doughnuts in a doughnut. Apple pie, for God's sake, served at the Staten Island Ferry reconstruction project, where, in order to launch a new ferry, Iron Man used giant scissors to cut a cable made of Spider-Man's webs. Iron Patriot and Iron Man flying into action to assist the Fantastic Four in corralling a giant monstrous squid to stop it from crawling out of the Hudson River.

"Mr. Rogers, King T'Challa will see you now," a voice said over the intercom. Steve jumped up and practically levitated down the hall to the royal suite.

Ayo followed Steve inside and stood at the door. Steve would be offended if he didn't know, at this point, that it was protocol to have someone attending T'Challa whenever a stranger was near.

"How can I help you, Mr. Rogers?" King T'Challa said behind his massive desk.

Steve winced a little at the demotion, but ever since the U.S. had stripped him of his rank and citizenship, none of the citizens of Wakanda called him 'Captain' any longer.

"Your Royal Highness, I'd like to put in a call to Tony Stark. I need to speak to him immediately, and since we can't trust he has the cell phone I sent him, I'd like to call him directly."

T'Challa raised his eyebrows. "You know I cannot risk that. If you or your team were to be traced back here, it would put my people in danger of retribution."

"But you have the know-how to block that possibility, don't you?"

"And Mr. Stark has the technology to attempt to break through our blocks. This is why we insisted on putting your jet in a hanger with Faraday dampening. In fact, we took enough of a risk allowing you to retrieve your fellows; blocking the tracker on the jet while in motion was dangerous enough. And now you want me to open a communication channel directly to Mr. Stark?" T'Challa shook his head in disbelief.

"Surely your technology is far superior to his," Steve tried, but T'Challa rolled his eyes.

"Perhaps your problem is something I can assist you with?" he offered instead. "What is the issue, Mr. Rogers?"

"It's...personal. Tony is goading us and trying to hurt my team, and he's using the news and the web to do it."

T'Challa made a face of polite disbelief.

"I have proof," Steve said. "I've gathered some evidence." He waited for permission and then came around the king's desk to show him his tablet screen. "See, here on his Twitter: all the places he's selected, American landmarks, to taunt us with where we can't go, and American foods we can't eat—Clint almost burst into tears when he saw Tony having pizza at Original Ray's, and then there's the hotdogs, cotton candy, apple pie..." Steve snorted in disgust. "It's so blatant. He actually went to Brooklyn and visited my favorite amusement park." Steve pointed at the website with pictures of Vision and the many American tourist traps Tony had taken him to; showed T'Challa photos of War Machine and Iron Man flying around the Statue of Liberty. "I love your country and I'm grateful for your hospitality, Your Highness, but we would all still go home if we could. Tony knows that and he's using it against us."

After looking over the evidence for a good few minutes, T'Challa cleared his throat and sat back in his big chair. He tapped his fingertips together before slowly saying, "Tell me, Mr. Rogers, have you ever heard of such a thing as 'Confirmation Bias'? It's a concept well known in Western psychology."

Steve dropped his head. "You're not going to let me make that phone call, are you?" he said, taking his tablet and moving back around to sit in front of T'Challa's desk.

"Confirmation Bias," T'Challa said, voice firm, "is the tendency all humans have to interpret data to reaffirm their existing theories. As opposed to keeping to an objective standard." Steve frowned, and T'Challa continued, "In other words, you have an idea, and suddenly everything you see seems to support that idea. Sound familiar?"

For a moment, Steve flashed on the photograph of younger Tony eating a burger at a press conference, but he pushed it away. That was one incident. He had at least twenty other examples.

"You can't seriously be suggesting I made all this evidence up?" Steve said, waving his screen.

"Of course not; the photos are real; but, just as a thought exercise, let me offer you some contradictory evidence." T'Challa patted his desk. "I'm not sure you realize this, but ever since the disagreement between the Avengers, those that remained behind have suffered from a preponderance of public scrutiny and hostility, both at home and abroad. Eh?"

Steve had some inkling, from some of the news stories. But this made it sound much worse. He nodded warily.

"That's because you, Mr. Barton, Mr. Wilson, Ms. Maximoff, Mr. Barnes, Mr. Lang, and Ms. Romanoff have all been hiding."

Steve winced.

T'Challa was implacable. "You've been hiding from the repercussions of your actions. Hiding from law enforcement. Hiding from the recriminations of the public. Hiding even, in Mr. Barnes' case, from consciousness."

"Now wait just a darn second—"

"Am I wrong, Mr. Rogers? In what particular?" T'Challa sat back in his chair and waited.

Steve opened his mouth, but absolutely no words came to him except the wrong ones. 'We were doing what was right' wasn't an answer, not to the question T'Challa was asking. If they did what was right, why were they hiding? They should still be standing up to the bullies.

"I'm sorry," T'Challa said. "I've traveled off topic."

Steve nodded with relief.

"Or have I? The question is Mr. Stark. Whatever is he doing flying around to public monuments and rubbing it in your face? Eating apple pie and all-American hot dogs?" T'Challa shook his head and tsked.

Steve clenched his fists.

"Well," T'Challa said, his tone turning biting, "as should be apparent to anyone with a modicum of political savvy, Tony Stark has a problem and he's trying to fix it. See, Captain America is expatriated. Captain America is now a criminal. Captain America, the Avenger, has betrayed the values of his country and run away."

Steve surged to his feet. "What in the hell gives you the right—?"

T'Challa raised his hand, and Steve felt Ayo step up behind him. "Calm yourself, Mr. Rogers. This is a thought experiment, only. I am trying to explain something to you, remember?"

Steve settled uneasily back in his chair.

"As I was saying, Mr. Stark has a very specific purpose; do you not see it? What is more American than the Grand Canyon? The Statue of Liberty? Pizza pie and hot dogs? Ferris wheels and cotton candy?"

Steve's heart sank as he made the connection.

T'Challa continued mercilessly, "And with them, he associates Iron Man, War Machine, Vision, Power Man, Iron Fist, and Spider Man, his all-American heroes. He is rebuilding the Avengers brand," T'Challa said simply. "And though you brought me no evidence from European or non-Western media, I can tell you, he is also rebuilding the Avengers brand internationally, associating them with the rebuilding and humanitarian efforts in Lagos, Bucharest, and Sokovia. Wakanda's own aid efforts in those countries have encountered Avengers and Stark Industries teams, there."

Steve curled his lip against the cold dread. "He's a showman."

"He knows that without the people's support, in crucial times they won't listen and heed the Avengers' call. To arms, or to safety. I'm surprised you don't understand that, being a man of the people," T'Challa said, mockery staining his voice.

Shaking his head, Steve said curtly, "So, this is all a show for the world's benefit. Not for us. Fine, I get it. Thank you for your time, Your Highness."

"I'm happy to assist," T'Challa said, sighing obviously as Steve left.

Steve made the long walk back to their quarters. When he arrived in the common room, he found Clint and Scott fighting over the last box of Nilla Wafers, part of the care package Natasha had dropped off before creeping off again into the night. Hiding.

_Hiding from the repercussions of your actions. Hiding from law enforcement. Hiding from the recriminations of the public._

"Hey, Cap, you want some?" Clint said, holding the battered box above Scott's head.

"Don't call me that," Steve murmured.

"What?"

"Nothing. No, thanks, my stomach's off."

Steve went back to his room and sank heavily into his soft bed, where the smell of cotton candy followed him into his dreams.

 

.....

**Author's Note:**

> According to MCU Wiki, Wakanda is likely located just above Lake Turkana, where it rains on average 1 day a month (4 days in April) and the temperatures average from 32-35C (82.4 to 86 degrees F) all year round, peaking as high as 97F. That is to say, unrelentingly hot.


End file.
